


Please Stay Till I Am Sleeping

by wayward_avenger



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Avengers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Peter, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Peter Parker Has Nightmares, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 08:46:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20373973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_avenger/pseuds/wayward_avenger
Summary: Peter hadn't told anyone about the building collapsing on him. He didn't want to bother anyone. When nightmares keep him up, he finds that it may be harder to keep the secret from the Avengers than he realized.





	Please Stay Till I Am Sleeping

**Author's Note:**

> Hi loves! I wrote this as a prompt from one of my lovely readers on a previous fic! Coincidentally, I had trouble sleeping when I started this fic and I felt completely awful, so I decided to incorporate it here. I had trouble sleeping because I was so excited that I'M MEETING TOM HOLLAND TOMORROW!!! I had just bought tickets and I couldn't contain myself! So, enjoy the fic that came out of it! I love you comments and kudos! They make my day and inspire me to keep writing!

_Help! HELP! Please…any...any…please…I’m down here! Please, I’m stuck! I can’t move…I can’t…I can’t…_

_And if you died, I feel like that’s on me._

_And I wanted you to be better._

Peter woke up with a gasp, his heart pounding. He turned his head on the pillow as he looked at the clock beside his bed.

_1:30 a.m._

Great. Peter rolled onto his back, rubbing his tired eyes. This was the sixth day in a row that he had woken up from a nightmare, barely accumulating three hours of sleep each night. He felt frustrated tears accumulate in his eyes. God, he was so tired. May had left for a conference in D.C. the previous night, leaving Peter to stay with Tony at the Avengers compound. Normally, Peter would have been thrilled to stay with Tony and the rest of the Avengers for a whole week, but now, all he felt was weak, shaky, and one more sleepless night away from a mental breakdown. Plus, he certainly didn’t need Tony knowing that he was waking up from nightmares about the Vulture…_or_ that he had a building dropped on top of him nearly a month ago.

He decided that laying in bed would only make him more depressed that he wasn’t sleeping, so he got up to go to the kitchen. He began brewing a single cup of coffee in the Keurig while he scrolled through his phone, not really seeing anything. His eyes blurred over and his limbs felt heavy and sore. He finished the coffee in about ten minutes, opting to brew another cup. He passed the time until about five in the morning when he decided to return to his room to change for school. Despite the coffee, his movements were awkward and uncoordinated as he shuffled down the hall. He dressed, not really paying attention to what he was wearing and returned to the kitchen. Deciding on not worrying Tony with his sure-to-be haggard appearance, he opted to swing to school on his own and not make Happy drive the nearly hour commute. He scribbled a quick note to Tony as he opened the window and scaled the building.

He was swinging his way near Queens when suddenly, his eyesight became blurry once more and he found that his arms and hands did not want to respond to his constant need to _stay attached to buildings_. Before he knew it, he slammed face first into the side of the brick building next to Midtown School of Science and Technology. He scrambled to catch his footing on the side of the building before he slid down nearly fifty feet. His movements were not as graceful. He stumbled onto the ground, falling over sideways as he gripped his throbbing nose, which was bleeding profusely.

Still about five blocks away from Midtown, Peter opted to walk, hoping his nose would at least stop bleeding by the start of class.

“Hey Penis!” he heard twenty minutes later in the hall. “Santa’s looking for the rest of his reindeer there, Rudolph.” Flash Thompson shoved past Peter, knocking him into the side of his locker.

“Get lost, Flash,” Peter heard Ned call from behind him. “Hey, Peter, you ok?” Ned said softly, closer to his ear now.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Ned, thanks,” Peter mumbled, looking up at his best friend. He saw Ned’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Peter! What happened? Oh, Peter, you look awful,” Ned said sympathetically.

“It was just…internship stuff,” Peter said significantly so Ned would understand.

“Uh-huh,” Ned said, somewhat skeptically. “And does Mr. Stark also keep you up all night? You look dead on your feet, man.”

“I’ve just…been busy. Yeah, I guess I haven’t been getting as much sleep as I should be,” Peter said noncommittally, not wanting to tell Ned that he couldn’t sleep because he was having nightmares like a five year old.

“Promise me you’ll skip patrol tonight and go to bed early?” Ned implored. “You’ll probably burst a blood vessel with that nose anyway.”

“Sure Ned, if that would get you off my back,” Peter responded, trying his hardest to pull off a playful smile.

The rest of the day passed in a hazy blur. As the bell rang at three, Peter was never more thankful that it was Friday. He bid Ned goodbye and pulled out his phone.

_8: 36 am- Tony: Kid, why did you leave so early this morning? Happy could have driven you._

_11:17 am- Tony: Peter? Are you there? Is everything ok?_

_12:31 pm- Tony: I’m really hoping that you are being a responsible high schooler and keeping your phone in your locker…that’s why you’re not answering. Text me when you’re done class._

_1:42 pm- Tony: Happy is picking you up and if you don’t go with him, I’m flying down there._

_2:56 pm- Tony: I’ll give you nine minutes to let me know you’re alive. I know class ends at three._

_3:04 pm- Tony: I’m literally standing on the compound grounds in my suit waiting for my signal to start flying._

Giving an exasperated sigh, Peter quickly responded, “_I’m alive, sorry, didn’t hear my phone all day. Leaving with Happy now,” _as he walked up to Happy’s black car.

“I’m glad you’re not dead kid, Tony would have gotten even more annoying,” Happy said, opening the door for Peter. He quickly stopped him, though, tilting Peter’s head up by his chin.

“What did you do to your nose, kid?” Happy asked, perplexed.

“I ran into a…pole,” Peter said unconvincingly.

“Uh…huh…” Happy said slowly. “We’ll see how much Tony buys that.” The car pulled out of the parking lot as they made their way back to the compound.

“Peter,” a voice said as Peter jerked awake. He was still in Happy’s car, but must have dozed off at some point. His heart hammered against his chest as he squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Peter, are you sure you’re ok?” Happy asked again, concerned.

“Y-yeah, Happy, just…it’s been a long week. Not enough sleep,” Peter brushed off.

“Alright, kid…just go to bed early tonight, ok?”

Peter smiled and rolled out of the car. He barely registered where he was going until he walked through the door of the compound and a voice greeted him.

“Hello, Peter. Boss is in the lab. Would you like me to let him know you have arrived?” came the steady voice of F.R.I.D.A.Y.

“No, thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y., I got it. I’ll just head down myself,” Peter said noncommittally.

“Hey, kid,” Tony greeted a minute later as Peter stepped out of the elevator doors. “Come check this out.”

“Hey Mr. Stark,” Peter said, dropping his book bag and shuffling his feet over to where Tony stood over a new Iron Man suit. Tony handed him a screwdriver without looking up at him, still eyeing the suit in front of him.

“Want to put the finishing touch on her?” Tony asked, pointing to a loose portion of the chest plate. Peter moved forward, his hand holding the screwdriver as steadily as possible. Suddenly, his eyes didn’t want to cooperate either as they blurred before him. He swayed as he felt a hand clasp his own.

“Woah, woah, easy, kid,” he heard Mr. Stark say in a worried voice. He looked up into Tony’s concerned face as the older man spoke.

“Peter? Are you ok? You’re shaking and you nearly took a nose dive on my floor,” Tony asked, holding up Peter’s trembling hand.

Peter let out a long breath as Tony guided him into a chair, placing a hand on the boy’s forehead.

“Pete, kid, what is it. Tell me what’s wrong,” Tony asked a little more urgently.

“Nothing, Mr. Stark, really. I just haven’t been sleeping well the past few days, that’s all.”

Tony looked skeptical, “F.R.I.D.A.Y., what’s the kid’s sleep log since he’s been here?”

Peter groaned, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hide from the A.I.’s mysterious wealth of information.

“Peter has slept approximately 18 hours in the six days that he has been at the compound, averaging approximately three hours per night. My senses indicate that he has also been experiencing micro-sleep incrementally during the day.

Peter rubbed a hand over his face as he felt Tony’s eyes on him.

“Tattletale,” he mumbled.

“Pete, why haven’t you been sleeping?” Tony asked quietly. Peter shrugged. “Why didn’t you at least tell me?” Tony continued.

“I didn’t want to bother you. Plus, it’s just sleep.” This was the wrong thing to say.

“Just sleep? God, Peter! What if you’re reaction times are slower and some XYZ enemy knocks you out cold because your mind couldn’t concentrate? Or, what if it was something worse? What if something more serious were to happen because you were unable to be fully alert! Trust me, kid, I know what not sleeping can do to you. Please don’t follow in my footsteps. I can’t lose you because you were too naïve to think that your health isn’t importa-” Tony stopped suddenly at the sight of Peter’s face. The boy’s eyes were filling up with tears as Tony realized he had gone too far.

“Oh, kid, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper,” Tony said, reaching to give Peter a hug, but the boy stepped back slightly. Tony settled for resting a hand on Peter’s head as he tilted his face to look at Tony. The older man frowned.

“Pete, what did you do to your nose?” Tony asked, confused.

Tony had just noticed Peter’s nose, which Peter suspected had now healed enough to be less noticeable. Peter didn’t respond.

“Peter, tell me the truth. Was it Flash?” Tony asked, accusingly.

“What? No, it wasn’t Flash,” Peter said quickly.

“Then what was it?” Tony asked. “Peter…” he urged.

“Umm…” Peter began shiftily. “IwasswingingtoschoolandIforgottowebtoabuilding” he mumbled under his breath. It was enough for Tony to get the gist, however.

Willing to keep his temper in check, Tony ran a hand across his face, closing his eyes.

“Alright,” he said. “Is there any point in telling you to go to sleep right now?”

“Not really,” Peter said sadly. “I guess I could give it a try tonight though.”

“How does a movie night sound? Chill night with the Avengers? We were planning on it already, weren’t we?”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Peter said in a small voice.

“Well, we still have an hour or two; why don’t you go lay down on the couch and just close your eyes for the time being.”

The next hour failed to bring Peter anything resembling restorative sleep. He frankly didn’t want to sleep because he was afraid of what he would see behind his eyes. The flashes, the sounds of concrete crashing down around him, the fire…oh the fire. Around 6, the rest of the Avengers arrived home from a mission, tired, hungry, but generally in good spirits. The each greeted Peter with their own unique greeting, which couldn’t help but make Peter smile.

“Hey Peter!” Steve said with a smile.

“Sup, mini arachnid,” Sam said with a tilt of his head.

“How was your physics test, Pete?” Bruce said, completely invested. The two had been studying for two weeks before the exam a week ago.

Natasha walked up, beaming, holding his face in her hands and then ruffling his hair.

Suddenly, Peter felt himself be lifted off the ground by _something_, as he took in the large frame of Thor. The god of thunder shook him slightly while greeting in a booming voice, “Yes! How are you, man of spiders?!”

Thor placed Peter down on the ground again and before Peter could react, he heard a “Hey kid!” Before his mind could catch up, his senses screamed _move left, now_ as a small dagger flew inches by his face and cemented itself into the wood paneled wall behind him. Under normal circumstances, he would have caught Clint’s dagger with his hands, but his reflexes were slower due to lack of sleep.

“Hey! No throwing knives at my kid,” Tony called, coming up the stairs. His voice was casual, but there was still a hint of genuine concern, no doubt because he knew Peter was probably in no mood or condition to be catching knives at the moment.

“It’s ok, Mister Stark, it would have been worse if Clint could actually aim properly,” Peter said with a tired smirk. _Still got it...keep it up and no one will suspect anything _he thought assuredly. It’s not like he didn’t want to let the Avengers know that he was so tired, but he knew they all had a busy day and he definitely didn’t want to ruin movie night.

Tony had come in bringing a stack of pizza boxes.

“Alright, everyone, dig in,” he said.

“Tony, it’s your turn to pick the movie,” Bruce said.

“What do you say kid, what should we watch?” Tony said purposefully, wanting the kid to enjoy something, or at least watch something familiar enough so he would end up dozing off.

“I don’t know, whatever you want,” Peter responded. He knew what Tony was doing, but he wasn’t going to let him treat him differently.

“Alright, New Hope it is,” Tony smiled. He knew Peter had seen it a thousand times, but still remained one of his favorites. Who knew, maybe he’d get bored and fall asleep.

The other Avengers grabbed their plates and settled around the couches. Peter sunk low into his cushions as he sat next to Tony, only nibbling on his pizza. He didn’t know if it was his bubbling nerves or his lack of sleep, but he hadn’t been very hungry the last few days. He finished his slice within the first ten minutes of the movie, however, not wanting to seem suspicious. It was another twenty minutes until his eyes started to droop and he felt Tony gently guide his head onto his shoulder, putting an arm around the boy.

_It was dark…he couldn’t breathe. He felt the concrete beams against his back, pinning him against the dirt. Something wet was trickling down his face._

_Help! HELP! Please…any...any…please…I’m down here! Please, I’m stuck! I can’t move…I can’t…I can’t…_

_He was screaming, unable to stop. His breath came in sharp gasps as he felt something sharp pierce his side. Surely he would die down here. No one would know he was there._

_“Peter!” he heard in the distance. Was someone coming to save him? They were too far away…they would never reach him in time._

_“PETER!” the voice bellowed in his ear._

Peter shot up with a cry. He could barely see, still seeing the rubble in front of him. He felt cold tear tracks against his face as he felt many hands on him. He looked around, taking large gulps of air.

Sam, Bruce, Natasha, Thor, Steve, Clint, and Tony were all grouped around him, looks of great concern across their faces.

Peter took stock of the room and realized Tony’s hands were on either side of his face while Natasha was supporting his back, rubbing circles over his slightly sweaty shirt.

“Peter, look at me, you’re ok, I’ve got you,” Tony said, his eyes wide.

“S-sorry,” Peter stammered. “Must have d-dozed off.”

“Peter,” Bruce said quietly. “What happened? We’re not stupid. We’re Avengers. Nightmares are an occupational hazard.”

“You can talk to us, Pete, you know that,” Natasha said softly.

“Yeah, kid, we want to help,” Clint said, looking more concerned than Peter had ever seen him.

“Peter, are these nightmares the reason why you haven’t been sleeping?” Tony asked. The man looked up and said something quietly over his shoulder and he saw Steve get up from the arm of the couch where he had been sitting, his arms crossed in worry.

Peter found that he couldn’t form a simple “yes” on his lips so he nodded as he felt Steve come back.

“Here, son, drink this,” Steve said comfortingly, handing Peter a glass of water. Peter drank a few sips, looking around the room. They were all staring at him intently, but it wasn’t a hard gaze, but soft, concerned, and comforting.

“Pete, talk to us,” Tony said again, almost so that only Peter could hear.

Peter took a long sip of water, hoping to stall the inevitable. After about thirty seconds, he put his cup on the table and looked at Tony.

“Remember when I battled the Vulture?” Peter asked.

Tony nodded, a hint of regret dancing across his eyes. He still hadn’t forgiven himself for being so apathetic about something he later learned was a pretty big deal.

“It…it was worse than I told you,” Peter continued, feeling as though he was prying every word out of him against his will.

“What do you mean, Pete?” Tony asked, sounding slightly scared.

Soon, Peter found that he could not stop talking. He told them everything from Homecoming with Liz and how Toomes had threatened to kill him, and how he had found Toomes in that warehouse.

“And then he started flying towards me, attacking the building around me. I thought he was just missing me until the support structures were all blown out and then…” Peter closed his eyes, his heart hammering against his chest at the thought of that night.

“Peter, what happened,” Sam prompted, sensing Tony had already put two and two together.

“The building collapsed…on top of me,” Peter whispered.

The air froze as the Avengers seemed to stop breathing.

“…what,” Clint said, a mixture of shock and anger lacing his voice. Natasha put a hand over her mouth, the rest of the Avengers stiffening as they took in what Peter had just said, some of their mouths hanging open.

“Pete,” Tony said, his voice deathly still. Peter looked up at him, his eyes sparkling. Tony’s face looked as white as a ghost, “I thought you said you fought him on Coney Island. On the beach.”

“That was after I…after I lifted the building off of me,” Peter mumbled.

“You _lifted_ _a building_ off of yourself?” Bruce asked, dumbfounded.

Peter simply nodded, shrugging slightly.

“Peter, you have told us of your strength, but few mortal men can lift buildings of which you have spoken,” Thor said numbly. “How did you manage such a feat?”

Peter felt as though all he wanted to do was to run from the room, having confessed what had been plaguing him for a month.

“My super strength was enough, I guess. It…it wasn’t easy and I was…was trapped under there for a bit.”

“How long, Peter?” Steve asked, his arms folded tightly.

“Um…once I woke up, maybe 20-30 minutes?” Peter replied.

“You were unconscious for a time before that?” Sam asked.

“I guess so…I can’t remember all of it. I don’t really want to. All I know is that I saw some of the first beams fall down and then the roof caved in…and then I woke up and I was pinned by the concrete.”

“And you weren’t hurt? Tony said you seemed fine!” Bruce said, looking at Tony for validation.

“I was…but I enhanced healing, remember?”

“I didn’t see him for about half a week,” Tony’s gaze was stony, and Peter knew he was blaming himself.

“It’s not your fault, Tony.”

“Kid, how badly were you hurt?” Tony said, ignoring Peter’s comfort. Peter looked around, not wanting to tell Tony just how hurt he had been.

“Peter, please tell us, son,” Steve said softly. Peter swallowed.

“I…I’m not a medical professional so I don’t really know but…what I could gather…um…a few broken ribs, concussion, maybe a fractured vertebrae, broken ankle…” his voice trailed away, figuring he had given them a good enough picture.

“Pete, no way in hell all of that could have healed in the few days before I saw you,” Tony said quietly.

“I hid it. Bruising is the first to go away. I made a splint for my ankle with web fluid and I still had a splitting headache from the concussion when we talked. It was also hard to breathe but I was able to fake it until I fully healed.”

“Peter…why didn’t you _tell me_,” Tony asked, his voice finally rising above a whisper. He didn’t sound angry, but scared and desperate, trying to work out on his own why on Earth Peter didn’t tell him.

“I didn’t want to worry you…I could handle it on my own,” Peter mumbled so quietly that Tony almost didn’t make out what he said.

“And this is what has been keeping you up for the past month with nightmares?” Tony asked numbly. Peter nodded as Tony slumped against the couch, his face in his hands. It was Natasha who spoke up next.

“Peter, you didn’t _have_ to handle it on your own,” she said, her voice a little hurt.

“You have more important things to do than worry about me. I knew I’d get better eventually,” Peter explained, now trying to make it sound like no big deal.

“Peter,” Thor said seriously. “You are one of us. There is nothing more important to us than your protection and safety…any of ours.”

“We’re a family, kid,” Clint said. “We want to know.”

“I’m…sorry,” Peter mumbled, his eyes brimming with tears. He felt himself be enveloped in a strong embrace. Tony was holding him in a hug so wrought with emotion, Peter felt as though Tony’s actual body was crying.

“No, Peter, it’s me who should be sorry,” he said over his shoulder. He pulled away, looking Peter in the eye. “I let you down and I wasn’t there for you. That changes now.”

“Yes, Peter, we want to know when you’re in trouble, or hurt, or need help in any way. We will always come. We promise,” Steve said. Peter looked up at all of the Avengers, their faces full of compassion for their youngest team member. Peter gave a small smile and nodded.

“Come on, Pete, let’s get you to bed, ok?” Tony said, pulling Peter up by his elbow. The boy swayed on the spot as Thor, Sam, and Bruce hurried up behind him to steady him.

“M’fine,” Peter mumbled as his legs attempted to give way. Before he knew it, Steve had caught him and held him bridal style as he began walking towards Peter’s room. All of the Avengers murmured their goodbyes as many of them offered gestures of comfort such as touching his head or hand as he was walked away.

Peter closed his eyes and soon felt Steve lower him gently onto his bed. He heard his footsteps die away as he heard lighter, softer footsteps approach. He felt the side of his bed sink a little bit. He opened his eyes to see Tony sitting there holding his hand, rubbing a thumb against the back. His eyes were desolate and sad, like they were staring at something far away in his mind. Soon, he snapped back to the present.

“Come on, kid, time to get some sleep,” Tony said, feigning a small smile.

“I’m scared. I don’t want to dream about it again,” Peter said in a small voice.

“You won’t Pete. We’re all here for you,” Tony responded.

“You don’t know that,” Peter mumbled, unconvinced. There was a pause, in which Tony did not disagree.

“Will you…will you please stay with me? Until I’m asleep?” Peter asked.

“I’ll stay with you all night, kid,” Tony said firmly.

Peter felt his eyes drooping as he sighed with a smile. He was asleep within seconds.

Peter woke the next morning to Tony sleeping on his folded arms on the side of the bed. The clock read 8:30am.

The dreams had not haunted him anymore.


End file.
